


Who We Were and What We've Become

by Jennsepticeye



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Brainwashing, December 16 1991, Dog Tags, Don't Ask Don't Tell, First Kiss, Getting Together, Howling Commandos - Freeform, Hugs, Hydra, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Marriage Equality, Memory Loss, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, Period-Typical Homophobia, Press Conferences, SHIELD, Secret Relationship, Steve need Bucky, That Smithsonian Exhibit, The Winter Soldier - Freeform, Therapy, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Toruture, Tumblr, Twitter, VHS Tapes, We Die Like Men, alley fights, okay here we go, pre-war stucky, repression of feelings, sorry for all the tags, this is the longest thing ive ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 05:38:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16443911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennsepticeye/pseuds/Jennsepticeye
Summary: Decades later, queer marriage is legal in New York, his Steve is dead, and Bucky Barnes is lost in the 21st century.Working Titles include:The Stucky AU we All deserve60 pages of repressed feelings and sadness.





	Who We Were and What We've Become

Who We Were and What We’ve Become

~*~

1940

“I had ‘em on the ropes,” Steve insisted, holding the damp rag to his bruised face.

Bucky smiled, stamping down on the way his heart thrummed. “I know ya did. What were they doing this time?”  
“They were pushin’ around a doll. Callin’ her names and… insinuating things.” Steve wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“I know you wanna help, Stevie, but you’re gonna get yourself killed. Maybe just try getting help once in a while.”

“Yeah, okay…” code for _never going to happen_ “God, where would I be without you, Buck?”

The other chuckled, washing out the abrasions on Steve’s hand with alcohol, trying to ignore the way he flinched in pain. So small and delicate. Made for art. “Bleedin’ out in an alley, probably.” Bucky forced himself to let go. _Stop. This is wrong. This is dangerous. You need to stop._

“Jerk.”

“Punk”

~*~

Bucky was woken up in the early hours of the morning by Steve’s coughing. Harsh and wet they made his small frame spasm.

“Come on, Stevie. You gotta sit up.” Bucky urged drowsily, pulling on his arm. His skin was scorching with fever.

Steve sat up reluctantly, cough settling somewhat. He leaned exhausted into Bucky’s chest, his breath was heaving and ragged. The pneumonia was hitting hard this year.

“I’m so tired of this,” he mumbled, voice thick. “I don’t wanna be sick anymore, Buck.”

“I know, Stevie. I’m sorry.” Later he’d say that his tiredness had lowered his inhibitions, and that was why he threaded his fingers through sweaty blonde locks. As if sharing a bed with Steve didn’t make his heart skip enough.

_StopStopStopStopStopStopStopStop_

          Steve fell back to sleep, leaning against Bucky who leaned against the headboard. Bucky barely slept another wink.

~*~

“How come ya never seem interested in any of the girls we take out?” Bucky asked one night, after another failure of a double-date.

Something unidentifiable flashed across Steve’s face before it was gone. “Mutual disinterest.” He shrugged “How come you never take a girl for more than one date?”

_He knows. He knows. He knows, and he hates you. Don’t tell him. Deflect._

“Not my thing I guess.” He said, before adding “Second dates, that is.” He tried his best not to let the panic show on his face.

“Buck…?” Steve asked, tentative, “Are you…queer?”

Bucky froze, breath catching in his throat. “No!” he said, far too late for it to be anything other than incriminating. He sputtered, trying to come up with something.

“Relax, Buck. I ain’t gonna report ya. I was just curious." That’s all. Steve was smiling. _God, how he loved that smile, bright and shining like the sun._

Bucky’s insides were in knots as he registered what Steve had said.

_You’re fine. You’re okay. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care._

“Quit spacing out. Let’s go to bed.”

Bucky was halfway to setting up to sleep on the floor when Steve spoke up. “What the hell are you doing? Get up here.”

“I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“I’ll be much more uncomfortable when I freeze to death. Just get in the bed, Buck. There’s no need to make this a big deal.”

Bucky relented, crawling under the covers on the awful creaking mattress.

_You can’t. You can’t. Stop._

“G’night, Buck.” Steve slurs, already half asleep.

_It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s fine._

“G’night.”

~*~

1943

“Orders?” Steve asked, spotting the paper clenched in Bucky’s grip.

“107th,” Bucky said, in a way that says he was trying to sound confident. “Sargent James Barnes. Shipping out for England, first thing tomorrow.”

“I should be going with you.” Steve sighed. For once, Bucky didn’t argue.

He smiled, bright and false, and tugged tiny, _tiny_ Steve into his side. “Come on. It’s my last night. Gotta get you clean.”

They walked back to the apartment in silence, and Bucky pretends his arm over Steve’s shoulder is for purely selfless reasons. It’s kind of cold outside, he told himself.

~*~

It was dark by the time the two were ready to head out to the Stark Expo. Steve was hesitating, stalling. Like he wanted to say something but wasn’t quite sure what, or how.

“You alright there Stevie?” Bucky asked

“Yeah… just… um…” The usually articulate Steve Rogers couldn’t seem to find the words. His face was red, whether from embarrassment, fever or something else, Bucky didn’t know. “It’s probably easier if I show you.” Steve said, wearing the same look he had when he faced down guys twice his size, determined and unstoppable. _Oh so quickly_ those delicate fingers wrapped around the tie of Bucky’s uniform and pulled him into a kiss.

Bucky’s mind was screaming a half dozen different things at him. That this was _wrong._ That it was too good to be true. That it was too good to let go. That he couldn’t. He kissed back because that’s all he’s wanted for years.

          Steve was the first to pull away, leaving them both breathless.

“Stevie,” he whispered, barely there, “We can’t.”

“I know… Just thought you should know…”

“Come on, we’ll talk about this later. We shouldn’t leave the girls waiting.”

Steve chose not to mention that there wouldn’t be a later, because Bucky would be shipping off tomorrow without him.

~*~

“I’ve signed more of these condolence letters today than I’d care to count, but the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry.”

Steve’s head spun. He hadn’t felt this faint since his last asthma attack.

_NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO_

He let impulse take over.

~*~

Steve couldn’t say why he had walked into that specific room at the HYDRA base, but he was so glad that he did.

“Bucky, Buck, hey. It’s me. It’s Steve.” He said, wrenching off the straps holding down his best friend for whatever horrible things they had done.

“Steve?”

Steve had never been so glad to hear someone’s voice.

“Yeah. Come on.”  He pulled Bucky off the table. After a moment of relieved silence. “I thought you were dead.”

“I thought you were smaller.”

Steve almost wanted to laugh. God, he missed him.

~*~

          There was a moment, as the base started to blow, and Bucky was on the other side. A terrible moment where Steve thought he was going to make this his tomb.

“Just go!” He’d yelled, because he couldn’t let Bucky die here too.

“No! Not without you!” The other had screamed, so desperate and ragged. He couldn’t go out like this. _He couldn’t leave Bucky alone._ When he jumped, he knew Bucky would catch him.

~*~

          There was a hell of a fuss when they returned to camp. Captain America was a hero now, not just some show girl in tights. It was almost dusk when Steve managed to duck away, pulling Bucky with him into an empty tent. Everyone was too busy celebrating to find them here.

“Steve, wha—”

          Steve couldn’t be patient anymore, after everything that had happened, he refused to let this go. He couldn’t hesitate to pull his favorite person in by the collar. It was at kiss that spoke volumes of relief and something warm. This time Bucky pulled away first, frowning.

“Stevie, you know we can’t…”

“Yeah, no shit,” Bucky blinked. Steve only swore when he wanted Bucky to really pay attention. “Murder and theft aren’t legal either, but that doesn’t stop it from happening. I figure as long as we aren’t hurtin’ anyone, we deserve at least this.”

“You always were smarter than me. Guess now you’re stronger than me too.” Bucky was smiling, but he wasn’t happy. He sounded almost defeated.

“Buck, what are you goin’ on about?”

The smile fell. “I mean you don’t need me to protect you anymore. You can find a girl, live your life. You don’t have to be stuck with me.”

“Barnes, you must be the stupidest person I know.” Steve said, holding onto him by the upper arms. “I don’t want a girl, I want you. Just because I don’t need you to protect me from schoolyard bullies doesn’t mean I don’t want you by my side. Dammit Buck, I’ve been in love with you since I was thirteen.”

Steve’s words finally seemed to reach him, and he smiled, sunshine-bright and real. “You better not change your mind, Punk.” He said, so many things, emotions and words unspoken, trapped in his eyes.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Jerk.”

And then Bucky was pulling him back in. So close it was scorching in the English cold. Neither of them wanted to let go.

“Captain Rogers I—” Agent Carter’s crisp voice cut off in surprise as she opened the tent.

The two flew apart as if they’d been burned. Agent Carter was staring.

“Certainly not what I expected to walk in on. I assume you two will be bunking together?”

The two men blinked owlishly at her.

“I’ll take that as a yes. I’ll let you two get back to it, though I do need to see you first thing tomorrow, Captain.” She gave a knowing wink before sauntering off.

          Neither of them knew what was funny, but suddenly they were laughing, clutching at their cramping stomachs and each other. Steve would never get tired of hearing Bucky laugh.

## ~*~

1945

“Here, I want you to have these.” Bucky said, just as they were getting ready to head out for the Alps. He was holding out his dog tags.

“Why?” Steve asked, taking them like they were as valuable as gold.

“Good luck. In case something happens.” He shrugged, like it was nothing.

“Well then, I can’t send you in without proper good luck either.” He said, pulling his own tags from under his collar and looping them over Bucky’s head. “Just don’t die out there.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, pal. Till the end of the line, right?”

“Right.”

~*~

“Bucky!” Steve was already halfway out of the train. “Hang on!”

The railing in Bucky’s hands was broken and creaking. It wouldn’t hold much longer. Steve couldn’t seem to get close enough.

“Grab my hand!”

They reached out towards each other. The railing gave way. Bucky was screaming. Falling, falling, falling.

Steve didn’t remember the rest of the mission.

~*~

“I gotta put her in the water’’ Steve said, with a cadence of sad conviction.

_You deserve this. Bucky’s dead because of you._

_Bucky Bucky BuckyBuckyBucky_

“Please don’t do this.” Peggy’s voice said through the radio. “We have time. We can work it out.”

“If I wait any longer, a lot of people are going to die… Peggy this is my choice.” He pulled the dog tags from under his collar.

**James B. Barnes**

**32557038 T43 42 O**

“I’m sorry, Buck.” He whispered to himself. “I love you.”

Everything went black and cold in an instant.

~*~

          It’s too cold, Bucky thinks. He shouldn’t be alive, everything hurts, and someone is dragging him through the snow. He wants Steve. He wants his baby sister, Becca. He wants to sleep.

          Bucky remembers pain, so much pain. The Soldier doesn’t remember anything. Bucky is stuck in the back seat of his own body, chained down and forced to watch as his own hands commit atrocities he wishes he would forget.

          A metal arm, so much anger. Someone chokes under that shiny hand. He hates it.

          The Soldier wakes up in the 50s. He wakes up in the 60s, 70s, 80s.

          In 1991 the Soldier murders Howard Stark and Bucky is screaming from the back seat.

          The Soldier never makes it back to whoever had purchased him. Someone, someone red, gets the drop on him. When everything does dark this time, at least it’s warm.

          The Soldier wakes slowly, the Weapon trapped in a hydraulic press and the red one calling him _James._

“Do you know who you are?” She asks

“Зимний солдат” He answers.

Red doesn’t like his answer. She leaves him alone with a bowl of soup.

          She comes back the next day, and the next. She asks the same question for a month, always getting some variation of ”the Winter Soldier” in response. With each inquiry the chains on Bucky Barnes loosen. The Soldier doesn’t want him to steer. That’s too bad.

“What’s your name?” Red asks. The Soldier’s head is pounding, and Bucky is writhing in his chains. He claws his way forward and grabs the wheel.

“Sargent James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th.” He grinds out.

“Took you long enough, James. It’s time to remember.” Red says. She leaves him alone again. He swallows down the tar black coffee.

          The memories come most clearly in his sleep. More often than not his dreams are violent and bloody, his own hands murdering strangers. The Soldier tries to shut him back out. Bucky sticks his foot in the door.

          Sometimes the memories are soft and warm. Those nights he wakes up shaking with the ghosts of hands on his skin and the taste of a name on his tongue. His memories feel scrambled, discordant. They hurt. But the Winter Soldier isn’t the one behind the wheel anymore.

~*~

“How much do you remember, James?” Red— Natalia asked

“Too much…” He answered

“What year is it?”

“1992”

“Good.” Natalia handed him a set of plain looking clothes. “HYDRA is going to want their pet back. Lay low.”

“What am I supposed to do now?”

“Whatever you want. You’re a free man now. I’ll be in touch.” Then she was gone.

~*~

Bucky found himself in New York rather quickly, staring at a Smithsonian display with his face plastered on the glass.

_A Fallen Comrade_

_Sargent James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes_

_1917-1945_

_Born and raised in Brooklyn, Sargent Barnes was the childhood best friend of Captain America. They formed an inseparable pair both on and off the battlefield. Never far from Captain Rogers, he became the sniper and second-in-command of The Howling Commandos._

_In 1943, while serving with the 107 th on the Italian front, he was captured by Hydra. Barnes endured long periods of starvation, isolation, torture, and experimentation. He was rescued by Captain Rogers more than two months later._

_Reunited, the pair formed and co-lead the Howling Commandos until Barnes was killed in action in the French alps. His death was soon followed by that of Captain Rogers. Neither body was ever recovered._

Bucky read and re-read every plaque in the Captain America exhibit, letting the memories return. Flashes of a skinny kid bruised in an alley. The same kid, three feet taller, dressed in red, white, and blue.

He didn’t leave that exhibit until the museum closed.

That night he grieved. He knew Steve was probably dead by now but learning how. That was something entirely different.

It was just like Steve to sacrifice himself like that, for other people. At least he hadn’t suffered.

~*~

          Bucky didn’t hear from Natalia for over a decade. 2005, March, he returned from the garage to find Natalia on his couch, flipping through a magazine.

“Hello, James.” She said, not looking up.

“Long time, no see, Red”

“Yeah, well I found something of yours. Thought I should return it.” She tossed something to him. Dirty and only slightly rusted was a pair of dog tags.

**Steven G Rogers**

**66872312 T42 43  AB**

**C**

“Thanks.” He looped the chains over his head. They hung cold and heavy against his chest.

She finally stood, handing him a VHS tape. “This is yours too. Well, the Soldier’s really. Do with it what you want.” She walked out without another word

          Bucky turned it over in his hand.

**16** **декабря** **1991** **г** **.**

           He didn’t need to watch it to know.

~*~

          The decision to send the tape to Howard’s son, Anthony, wasn’t one he thought hard about. The letter, however, was.

          _Anthony Stark,_

_My name is James Barnes. HYDRA called me the Winter Soldier._

_I was captured 1944, tortured, and brainwashed. They turned me into their weapon. They gave me a version of the super soldier serum given to Steve Rogers. I was taken in and out of cryostasis and had my memories periodically wiped until I defected in 1992._

_I’m sending you this tape, not to ask for forgiveness, but because you deserve to know the truth. That your parents did not die in a car accident. Whatever you decide to do with this information, I won’t fight it. Also enclosed are the HYDRA files I had with me when I defected._

_For what it’s worth. I think that they would be proud of what you’ve built, Anthony._

_Signed,_

_James Buchanan Barnes._

 Bucky wasn’t the best with words, but it got the point across.

He never heard or saw anything about the letter. No one came pounding at his door to arrest him. He knew Stark got the message though.

~*~

          Bucky was only halfway tuned in when the news broke.

“The courts have made their ruling. As of today, same-sex marriage is legal in the State of New York…”

It’s July 2011. Queers can get married in New York, and his Stevie is dead in the arctic. Bucky stared at the metal that used to be his left hand and grieved all over again. He wonders if he ever stopped.

~*~

          Despite ridding himself of the Winter Soldier’s control, the skills and instincts he gained during that time remained. He knew someone was in his apartment without even consciously recognizing the evidence. He pointed a gun at the man on the couch.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“Agent Phil Coulson, and you’re Sargent James Barnes.” He stood and held out a hand. Bucky didn’t shake it. “Sargent Barnes, I’ve come to tell you some news. The agency I work for discovered Schmidt’s plane early yesterday morning. We have not yet located Captain Rogers, but we thought we should inform you.”

          Bucky’s gun clattered noisily to the floor.

“If you’d be open to it, we’d like to fly you out.” Coulson said, “It’s the least we could do.”

“Why?”

“Because of you and Miss Romanova, we have confirmed and taken out several branches of HYDRA. And we want to bring him home.”

“What agency did you say you were from?”

“I didn’t. Have you ever heard of SHIELD?”

~*~

          Bucky was freezing. Fluffy hood pulled over his head, the wind burned his face. His left shoulder ached.

“Sargent Barnes.” Someone called. A dark-skinned man with an eyepatch. “Welcome to the middle of nowhere. I’m Director Fury.”

Peggy and Howard had really created something great. Bucky was proud of them.

Someone sped up on a snowmobile, kicking up snow in a perfect arch. “Director Fury, we’ve located the cockpit.” She said.

“Impeccable timing, Barnes. It seems we’ve nearly found him.”

~*~

The aircraft was huge and gaping. An artificial cave untouched by time. The whole thing sent shivers down Bucky’s spine that had nothing to do with the temperature.

“Director! Sargent!” Coulson shouted from somewhere. “He’s over here!”

          If Bucky didn’t know any better, he’d think that Steve was sleeping. His face was relaxed, right hand curled around a set of dog tags. Bucky’s dog tags. There was a swirl of red, half a halo circling his head. Bucky felt sick.

“Stevie…” He murmured. He fell to his knees, not even noticing when Agent Coulson ushered everyone away. “I told you… I told you not to do anything stupid until I got back.” Tears were freezing on his face, even behind the insulated mask. “Dumb fuckin’ punk.” He hiccupped.

Bucky stood after a moment, blinking away the tears and plastering on a mask of composure. “Let’s bring him home.” He said to Coulson, walking away.

          SHEILD pulled Steve from the aircraft sixteen hours later, a solid block they would defrost in the states. Bucky sat with him in the freezer the entire eight-hour flight back to New York.

~*~

“So, you’re the infamous Bucky Barnes.” Someone says. Bucky’s blood runs cold. _Howard,_ he thinks, and then _No, you killed Howard._

“Tony Stark.” He says. “SHEILD put me in charge of defrosting the Capsicle, for some reason.”

Bucky stares. He killed this man’s parents, yet Tony is acting like they’re just meeting for coffee.

“Relax, Robocop. I don’t hold you entirely accountable. Torture? Been there, done that.” He taps the glowing blue circle in the center of his chest.

“You look just like him.” Bucky says without thinking. “I’m so sorry…” He adds.

Tony honest-to-God smiles at that. Not out of happiness, but something else. “Can’t say I’m not upset, yanno? But there are more important things to worry about now. We can talk about this later.” He claps Bucky on the shoulder, the right one. “Welcome to Stark Tower.”

~*~

          While Steve’s body is being thawed, Bucky spends a lot of time going through the things of theirs that Howard had held onto and passed to his son. A half dozen of Steve’s sketchbooks, each page filled with any manner of things. There were a lot of portraits of Bucky. He actually laughs aloud at the image of a star-spangled monkey riding a unicycle on a tightrope.

          There’s a stuffed bear that he’s never seen. It’s dressed in his old blue costume. The tag says that it’s a ‘Bucky Bear.’ There’s the blue showgirl helmet Steve had worn when he rescued Bucky all those years ago. It’s worn, the stamped ‘A’ on the front faded. Tony finds him there.

“Barnes.” He says, crashing through the door ‘You’re going to want to see this.” Then he’s gone, and Bucky is scrambling after him down to the lab where Steve is half freed from the ice. Bucky can’t help but stare.

“Pay attention.” Tony says, fiddling with various complex looking machines. “For all intents and purposes, Cap here is still frozen solid. Except he’s not.”

          Stark pulls up a hologram, but nothing is showing. Just one straight line. “It was so slow that we didn’t pick it up before, but watch.”

There’s a soft pitched _beep_ and the line spikes.

“Is that…?” Bucky doesn’t want to get his hopes up.

“Yeah, somehow the Capsicle has a pulse. Currently an average of two beats per minute.”

“What are you saying?”

“It means he’s basically been in cryo-stasis for the last sixty-six years. He’s gonna wake up, Robocop.”

Bucky feels like he’s going to cry, or vomit, or faint.

_He’s alive He’s alive He’s alive._

The black hole that sat behind his ribs since 1992 suddenly isn’t so suffocating.

~*~

“What’s with the movie set?” Bucky asks, referring to the one room replica of the old red cross hospital

“Figured it might be a little too shocking for him to wake up in Stark’s lab. Wanted to give him something familiar.” Fury answers, directing agents this way and that.

“I want to be in there when he wakes up.” His voice is matter of fact, hiding too many emotions. He didn’t want to think about what might have gone wrong. He knew a lot about head trauma now, and the effects of cryo-stasis on the human brain.

“I’m afraid I cannot allow that, Sargent Barnes.”

“Bullshit. I’m his next of kin. Any medical decisions are up to me. If this doesn’t work, he’s not going to stay calm. His first thought will be that he’s been captured. No one can calm him down the way that I can.” He challenges, glaring hard at the director.

Fury hums thoughtfully. “He’s wearing your dog tags Barnes. What is he to you?”

“Everything.”

~*~

The chair in the too clean façade is just as uncomfortable as he remembers. He realizes after a few minutes in not quite silence, that the ancient stereo on the dresser is playing the May 1941 game. SHIELD historians mustn’t have been too bright. Steve and he had gone to that game together. Before he had shipped off to England.

~*~

“Steve!” Bucky yelled, crashing through the front door of their apartment “I hope you’re ready for some fun!”

Steve peeked out of the sad kitchenette, “What are you carryin’ on about? This isn’t another double date, is it? Those never work out.”

“I got us Dodgers tickets you punk” Bucky sighed, exasperated. “For this afternoon.”

“You what?!” Steve’s whole face lit up. “How? We don’t have the money for that.”

“Bossman was gonna take his wife but had a last-minute business trip. Let me buy the tickets off him real cheap.”

Steve was smiling _oh so_ brightly, and Bucky would do anything to keep it that way.

“What are you waiting for? Grab your coat, maybe we can see them warm up.”

~*~

          The bed frame screeches loudly and Bucky startles awake. He hadn’t even realized he was tired. Steve is sitting up, blue eyes darting around the room.

“Bucky?”

          Bucky is up and across the room before he can even think about moving. He pulls Steve as close as possible, both hands clenched in the look-a-like t-shirt. He presses his face into the junction of Steve’s shoulder and neck.

“Steve, you stupid punk.” He mumbles.

“I thought you were dead.” Steve says, holding Bucky just as tight.

“I thought you were smaller.” Bucky replies, remembering all those many years ago.

“God, Buck. Am I dead? Let me look at you.” He pushes away, taking in the long hair, the stubble, the metal arm.

“Not dead, Stevie.”

“What the hell happened? And why is that radio playing a game from 1941?” A stricken look crosses Steve’s face. “Were we captured?”

Bucky laughs. “I wish it were that simple. No, we’re safe.” He hesitates for a moment. “and it’s 2011”

Steve blinks, trying to decide if he’s serious. “You’re not kidding.”

“Nope. Welcome to the future. No flyin’ cars though.” Bucky says, hoping that if he cracks enough jokes, he won’t burst into tears.

“I have so many questions.”

“Hopefully I have the answers. There’s a mess hall down stairs if you’re up for it.”

Steve’s stomach rumbles loudly, answering for him.

~*~

“Okay, let me know if I’ve got this right,” Steve says, after eating enough for seven. “After you fell, you were captured by HYDRA, brainwashed, tortured, the whole nine. Turned you into an assassin for hire. Then in 1991, that’s strange to even think about, after they made you kill Howard, another assassin broke you free and sent you on your way. Also, we’ve been to the moon multiple times and this is Howard’s son’s building.”

“Yeah. Also, computers are the size of flasks and queers can get married in New York.” Bucky holds his breath, tense.

“So, I missed all the good stuff then?” Steve crosses his ankle over Bucky’s. He remembers doing the same thing in military mess halls, curled around a fire eating out of tins, crammed in a sleeping sack not built for two.

“I’ve done a lot of terrible things, Stevie.” He says, the Weapon whirring as he clenches his fists. “I killed so many people. I’m a monster.”

Something dark crosses Steve’s face before it’s gone. “You’ve pulled ninety-pound me out of more fights than I can count. You always used to help Mrs. Oswald with her groceries, and you’ve always put others above yourself. You’re anything but a monster, Buck. You’re a good man. You wouldn’t have done any of those things if you’d had a choice.” He reaches across the table to grab Bucky’s hands, cold metal and warm skin. “I want you by my side, no matter what.”

“Punk.” He chuckles, relaxing.

“Jerk.”

~*~

“Everything is so bright and shiny,” Steve huffs, “It’s an eyesore.”

          “Don’t tell Stark that. He claims it’s in style.” Bucky replies, stepping into his quarters in the tower. Though _quarters_ is an understatement. It’s easily twice the size of the drafty apartment in Brooklyn. It’s late and they’re both emotionally and physically exhausted. They stand shoulder to shoulder, both wanting to reach out, but not sure if they should. They walk in silence to the bedroom, wordlessly agreeing that this was just like Brooklyn, but with a bigger, softer bed.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, after they’ve settled, changing into comfortable clothes. The question catches Bucky off guard as they stare out the window. The buildings they knew are nothing more than shadows now.

“What d’ya mean?”

“I have known you nearly my entire life. In all that time, you’ve never bothered to change in the bathroom. And the only time you ever slept in a shirt was in the trenches. I won’t force you to do anything. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

Bucky sighs, smiling grimly. “HYDRA… they weren’t exactly worried about my comfort,” he tucks his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting. “or how pretty the result was, as long as it worked like it was supposed to. I’m not the same man you fell in love with.”

“Bucky… nothing, nothing they did could make me think less of you.” Steve moves so that they’re face to face, suffocatingly close. “For me, you were only gone for a few weeks, and I… I don’t ever want to go through that again. So, I’ll have you however you’ll let me.”

          Bucky doesn’t say anything, just tips his face up and presses his lips against Steve’s. Decades ago their kisses were anxious, hasty, and repressed. This one is quick, but unrushed. Relaxed and beautifully emotional.

          They part slowly; Bucky is toying with the hem of his shirt. He takes a deep breath before pulling it over his head, letting it drop to the floor. Steve makes an unidentifiable, sad noise as he takes it in. The scarring spreads like flames from where skin meets metal, distinct and undoubtably self-inflicted. Bucky remembers clawing at his own skin in disgust and panic.

          _Gently, gently, gently_ Steve’s fingertips meet the cold metal wrist. They ghost upwards slowly, inviting Bucky to back away should he need to. They pause on the white star, tracing the outline. He had gotten it recolored a year or two after defecting by an engineering major who promised to keep quiet.  Steve presses on, fingers finally meeting the scar tissue. It’s puffy and red, sensitive in some places and numb in others.

“I’m sorry…” Steve whispers, choked as he rests his hand on the fusion of metal and skin. “I’m so, so sorry…”

“There’s nothing you could’ve done. Besides, can’t say I’m completely unhappy with how things turned out. I can have you without being arrested. That’s a win in my book.” Bucky leans forward into Steve’s shoulder. It’s still so strange that he doesn’t have to lean down anymore. “Let’s go to bed. All these emotions make a guy tired.”

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

~*~

          Steve is gawking at the Starbucks menu. He looks absolutely baffled and lost, the look on his face makes Bucky laugh.

“Buck, I have no idea what any of this means.” He says in a panicked whisper.

“Don’t worry about it. You trust me not to poison you?”

Steve snorts but nods his head.

“I’m gonna need one venti Americano and a grande Caramel Macchiato, please.” He says politely to the barista. Steve is looking at him like he had just spoken fluent German (which he could do, but that was beside the point). Bucky pays with a polite “Thank you ma’am.”

          Despite the way history portrayed them, Bucky was equally as impulsive as Steve, just in different ways. His impulsivity is the reason he doesn’t think about it, just reaches over and laces his fingers with Steve’s. He honestly should have expected the response he gets. For Bucky the 1940’s were decades ago. He had time to adjust, and get used to it. For Steve, it was only a week ago he would have been thrown in jail for something like this. He freezes up completely and dramatically, eyes darting around the room, waiting for someone to arrest or beat him.

          Bucky lets go like he’s been burned, turning to apologize when the barista calls his name, stealing his attention. He juggles the beverages in one hand and pulls Steve by the sleeve to a booth in a back corner.

“I’m sorry, Stevie. I shouldn’t have jus—” Bucky begins.

“It’s fine. I’m just not used to…” he gestures vaguely around the crowded café, “this. That no one cares. That the worst consequence is an insult.”

“Yeah, I get it. Sam likes to say that things are a process.” He pushes a cup of something cold and frothy across the table. “Try this.”

          The reaction is immediate. Steve’s face screws up as he coughs lightly. “Bucky!” he squawks indignantly. “I trusted you not to poison me!”

Bucky snorts, trying not to burst into raucous laughter. “Probably shouldn’t have done that. The future has a lot of sugar, pal.” He says, pushing the other cup across the table. It’s bitter and too hot. Exactly what Steve had been expecting when Bucky suggested they get coffee, if only better tasting.

“Sure beats trench coffee.” Steve says, raising the cup in mock cheers.

“Hell yeah, it does.”

~*~

_Bones crunched under the metallic grip of the Weapon, squeezing any traces of life out of the woman. She slumped over in the passenger seat. The Soldier let go, holding himself with impeccable military posture. The woman reanimated in a moment, leaping forward, bringing Bucky to the ground, and standing over him. Blood flowed from her forehead and mouth, glass pebbles in her hair and throat bruised, she was a haunt._

_“Your fault!” she yelled, voice rasping. “You killed them! You killed us! Steve is dead because of you!”_

Bucky!

_Bucky tried to scramble away but the snow was cold, cold, cold. Freezing him where he had fallen. “I’m sorry!” He cried, desperate. “I’m sorry! I didn’t want to!”_

Bucky!

~*~

          Bucky wakes up completely still, a practice learned from too many broken things knocked over in panic. His heart is racing, thrumming in his ears. He stares at the ceiling,

_My name is James Buchanan Barnes_

_It is 2011_

_I am 94 years old_

_I’m at Stark Tower in Manhattan_

He drags his right hand over his face, scrubbing away at any remnants of drowsiness. Sleeping again meant falling right back into the same hell.

“Buck?” Steve speaks up. He’s sitting up against the headboard. “You were having a nightmare.”

“Yeah, I know…” Bucky sighs, sitting up. “Did I wake you?”

“Nah. I was awake already. Are you alright?”

“Same old bullshit.” He dismisses. He leans subtly towards Steve who doesn’t hesitate to hold on. After a few quiet minutes, Bucky speaks up. “Will you cut my hair?”

“Sure, pal. We’ll do it first thing in the morning. Just like old times.”

          They fall into a restless half-asleep state for the rest of the night. Bucky doesn’t dream again.

~*~

“You cut your hair!” Dr. Lehman says, as soon as she sees him.

          Bucky sits down on the plush couch in her office, smiling sheepishly. “Yeah, I had Steve do it for me.”

“It looks good, James. Can I ask why?”

“Pardon?”

“I mean, you haven’t had it cut, since you defected from HYDRA.  You must have had a reason.” SHEILD shrinks, ever so observant and forthright.

“Would you buy it if I said I only trust him to cut my hair?”

Dr. Lehman chuckles at that. “I do believe your trust issues are a factor, but it seems it’s not the only reason.”

Bucky sighs, crossing his arms and staring at his boots. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Take your time, James.”

And he does. One of the reasons he liked Dr. Lehman so much was because she never pressured him to speak before he was ready. She patiently lets the room lapse into silence for nearly five minutes. When it ends, Bucky is the one to do so.

“I guess I just figured… without Steve Rogers, there couldn’t be a Bucky Barnes. At least not in the same way. But I wasn’t the Winter Soldier either?”

“So, do you think, now that Steve has come back, that the hair is an attempt to reclaim that identity?”

Bucky nods.

“And is it possible that this decision is at least partially for Steve’s sake?” She asks. “An attempt to bring back the you that he knew.”

Bucky shrugs. Dr. Lehman nods, she could tell he was going to go completely nonverbal if she pushed this topic much further today.

“Okay. I think there’s something to be said about how much of your identity revolves around Steve.” She concludes. “But that can wait until next week. How are the nightmares?”

~*~

“The world could come to an end, and Coney Island would look exactly the same.” Steve marvels, eyes bright under his dark sunglasses and baseball cap.

Bucky walks, relaxed but alert, next to him. The sun is high, but the November air is cool. “No kidding. The hot dogs even taste the same. Grease, grease, and more grease.”

Steve laughs, big and loud. When he was 90 pounds soaking wet, his laugh seemed too big for him. Now it seemed he had grown into it. Bucky loves Steve’s laugh.

“Come on, I want to ride the Wonder Wheel.”

~*~

“This is capital theft, Bucky.”

“This is inflation, Stevie.” Bucky replies, handing the eighteen dollars to a bored looking teen who gives a lackadaisical ‘have a Wonderful ride’

There is another pair in the carriage, a couple of Japanese girls who are pointing excitedly at the view. Steve wears a similar look of awe, taking in the new buildings that rose above familiar streets.

The wheel comes to a stop when they reach the top of the loop, and Steve turns away from the view. It’s windier up here and the November chill makes their shoulders draw up to their ears, but they’re smiling brightly, nonetheless.

“You better be happy, Punk. I’m freezing my a—”        

          Steve cuts him off unexpectedly, leaning close and pressing his chapped lips against Bucky’s. Soft and warm it lasts for several long seconds. Then, all at once, Steve seems to realize where they are. He jerks away like he’s been stung. The look of shock on his face is almost comical, hands over his mouth and eyes wide. Then he’s laughing, the sound rumbling out of his chest vibrantly.

“You call that a kiss?” Bucky teases, pulling Steve back in. This is nice.

~*~

February 2012

          The room is buzzing with movement and noise. The crowd of reporters all curious to what new scoop they would be getting. Wondering why Stark Industries had called a press conference so suddenly. Steve takes a deep breath, reluctant to step through the door.

“You alright, Stevie?” Bucky asks, settling a warm hand on the small of his back.

“Just nervous… I guess.”

“You’ll do fine. Just pretend it’s one of those USO bond tours. They love you.”

“I hope so.” Steve says. Bucky kisses him on the forehead before urging him out the door. He walks quickly to the podium. The room falls into stunned silence.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for coming.” He coughs awkwardly “I’m sure some of you recognize me. My name is Steve Rogers, better known as Captain America.”

          The room explodes to life, reporters shouting over each other, cameras flashing brightly, making him squint. “I’m sure you have questions.” The room quiets some. “I have been frozen in the arctic since 1945, when I brought down Johann Schmidt’s aircraft. My body was discovered in October of last year, and I was brought back to the States to be defrosted and given a proper funeral and burial. Unexpectedly, Erskine’s Super Soldier serum preserved my life for nearly seventy years.”

“Why are we just hearing about this?” someone asks.

“I was confused and scared when I woke up. I figured it would be best to adjust to a new century, new millennia, before I announced myself.”

The press conference goes on for well over an hour, the questions devolving from serious to those of a gossip rag. Steve finds it exhausting. How Tony does this on a regular basis, is beyond him.

“Captain America! What is your stance on same-sex marriage?” Steve doesn’t like this reporter. She seems averse to calling him by his name, and her face makes him uncomfortable. She grins wolfishly, like she’s just unveiled the scandal of the century.

“I beg your pardon, ma’am?”

“It is my understanding that homosexuality was illegal in your time. As someone who embodies _traditional_ American values, that is to say, Christian values, I wanted to know your stance on the legalization of gay marriage in New York that took place last year.” She sounds like a snake, Steve decides.

“My time? You mean five months ago? Because that’s how long it’s been for me.” Steve knows that Pepper is not going to be happy with him, but he’s too angry to care right now. “I knew something was wrong with me, as a kid. That I wasn’t supposed to be having the thoughts that I was. I lived in constant fear of those feelings and what they meant and what would happen to me if someone found out. I was in love with my best friend, still am. So, I can say without a doubt that marriage-equality is one of the best things I woke up to, because it means that one day, I’ll get to marry my fella.”

The room was deadly silent.

“Congratulations, you got the scandal you were looking for. I’m done here.” Steve walks out of the room without another word, ignoring the way the reporters clamor behind him. Bucky is on the other side of the door, waiting to pull him close.

“You did great, Stevie.” He assured, holding him tightly.

“I just came out as queer to the entire world.” He whispers in shock.

Bucky laughs. “Yeah, you did. Guess it’s time to make that twitter account Stark keeps insisting you need.”

Steve groans, pulling away just enough to see Bucky’s face. “God, can you just kiss me?”

“Anything for my fella.” He winks before obliging. A guy could get used to this.

~*~

Steve Rogers: Recovered and Alive

 

Steve Rogers: Unworthy of His Title of Captain

 

Captain America: Icon or Sinner

 

Too Late for Don’t Ask Don’t Tell:  
Captain America Announces His Sexuality

 

Steve Rogers is Alive and Well and Gave a Heartwarming   
Speech on Marriage Equality in New York

 

The Truth Come Out  
Does Captain America is Gay?

 

~*~

“Steven Grant Rogers! Are you serious?!” Pepper yells, as soon as the news breaks. “I couldn’t care less who you do, but you’ve created an international scandal! Several countries are demanding you be stripped of your title."

Steve hangs his head in shame. She was so intense, she could probably make a puppy feel guilty for being cute. “Sorry, Pepper.”

“You better be. This is a PR nightmare.”

~*~

Steven Rogers @starspangledpunk  2m

          Stark said I needed one of these. Hello, world.

Genius, Billionaire, Philanthropist @iamironman 2m

          Took you long enough, Capsicle. BTW, you tweet like a 90 y/o man.

Genius, Billionaire, Philanthropist @iamironman 2m

          Oh wait…

Steven Rogers @starspangledpunk  6w

          Am I doing this right?

[image of two men’s hands entwined on a Starbucks table. The name ‘James’ is visible on one of the cups.]

Unarmed @capsbiggestjerk 6w

          You’re about as subtle as a freight train, punk.

Steven Rogers @starspangledpunk  6w

          You love me.

Unarmed  @capsbiggestjerk 6w

          Unfortunately.

Steven Rogers @starspangledpunk  5w

          I am head over heels for this man.

          [image of a brunet man, taken from behind. Taken at central park. The man  
          crouches by the pond to feed ducks]

Steven Rogers @starspangledpunk  5w

          Correction, I am head over heels for an idiot.

          [blurry picture of the same man. The image is blurred with movement, but the man  
          is quite clearly being chased by swans]

Annie Courtney @capbuff45 5w

          Who are you @capsbiggestjerk ?

Unarmed @capsbiggestjerk 5w

          The luckiest man in the world.

Genius, Billionaire, Philanthropist @iamironman 5w

          Gross. Get a room you two.

Steven Rogers @starspangledpunk  4w

          He’s an actual heathen

          [Image of a man from the neck down in a green Henley. He’s pouring cereal over milk]

Beth Taylor @tayday97 4w

          This is both criminal and adorable. Please, just give us a hint @capsbiggestjerk

Unarmed @capsbiggestjerk 2w

          Like I said: luckiest man alive.

          [picture of Steve shirtless on white sheets taken by the other person in bed. Steve  
          is smiling widely and his hair is a mess.]

Maggie Castle @rainbowpop1999 2w

          Oh my fucking god…

James Lewis @jamandpb 2w

          Are you serious?!

Becky Clark @notkent14 2w

          ASDFGHJKLWSDFHKLN

Steven Rogers @starspangledpunk  3d

          Fine, we relent.

          [awkwardly angled selfie of both Steve and Bucky. Bucky’s chin is resting on Steve’s  
          shoulder and he’s pouting.]

Kat Belkin @bellsandwhistles 3d

          He’s alive and he’s Cap’s bf! Is this a dream?

Brandon Kolb @kolbking98 3d

          Is that Bucky Barnes?

Unarmed @capsbiggestjerk 3d

          Yes.

Steven Rogers @starspangledpunk  3d

          Yes.

Pepper Potts @notsalty 3d

          James! Steve! Stop making important PR decisions without asking!

Genius, Billionaire, Philanthropist @iamironman 3d

          Oooooo! You’re in trouble~

~*~

The Mystery is Over:  
Captain America’s Secret Boyfriend

 

Luckiest Men Alive:

Rogers and Barnes Reunited and in Love

 

You Have to See These Tweets Cap Posted  
About His Anonymous BF Bucky Barnes

 

Cap’s Tweets About Bucky Barnes Will  
Make Your Day

 

Murderer and Monster: Barnes’s Soviet Past

 

How Much Do We Really Know About James Barnes?

 

~*~

2014

“You’re going to have to order something different eventually.” Bucky comments as they walk through Central Park. The days are longer now, and the sun is warm.

Steve takes another sip of his Americano. “Says who? I’m still recovering from the time you tried to kill me with a Caramel Macchiato”

“You’re so boring Ste—”

“Captain Rogers?” Someone asks, behind them. A young woman, no more than sixteen is jogging towards them. She has cropped hair and a rainbow pin on her jacket.

“That would be me.” Steve smiles, glad it wasn’t a reporter.

“And Sargent Barnes… wow, hi.” She gasps, giving a small wave. “I just wanted to say thank you. You’ve kind of become LGBT+ icons, and you’re the reason I had the courage to come out to my parents.” Her eyes are fixed on the ground, but she speaks with sincerity.

“What’s your name, kid”

“Sydnee, sir. My friends call me Syd.”

“Well, Syd. I’m proud of you. I’m glad you got to grow up in a time you can feel safe being who you are.” Steve says, clapping her on the shoulder.

“What he said.” Bucky adds.

Sydnee grins widely. “I’m glad you two got to be happy. Have a great day Captain. Sargent.” She gives a mock salute before jogging back the way she had come. Steve and Bucky watch after her for a moment, till she meets up with a tall red-head. Her girlfriend based on the way they look at each other.

“Damn I love the 21st century.” Bucky says.

“Me too, Buck.”

~*~

lMaryslittlelambl just posted. We noticed they’re one of your faves.

          Y’all I just ran into Stucky in Central Park and Captain America said that he was proud of me. This is the best day of my life

#goodvibes #stucky #central park …

~*~

          Steve wakes up terrified. Snapping upright, his heart seizes in fear. His breath comes in ragged pants as the ghost of harsh wind rings in his ears.

“Stevie? You alright?” asks a drowsy voice, laced with concern.

“No.” He admits, grabbing Bucky’s hand tightly and leaning into the offered embrace.

“You wanna talk about it?”

          Steve doesn’t answer for a moment, assuring himself that _Yes, Bucky is here. He’s alive. He’s safe. He’s here._ “I dreamed you were falling, back on that train in the French Alps” He says, finally.

“I’m here, Stevie. I’m safe. _We’re_ safe.” Bucky promises.

“God, I love you so, so much.” Steve whispers, kissing him carefully, reverently. Like his very life depended on it. A sweet back and forth, like the tide.

“I love you too. More than anything.” He replies, smiling into the kiss in a way that made it impossible for Steve not to follow suit. They hadn’t kissed like this since the camp in France. “Marry me?”

“What?”

          Bucky leans away, fumbling through the nightstand drawer. He turns back around with a ring in his hand. “Marry me, Steve?”

          “Absolutely.” He laughs, taking Bucky’s face in his hands and peppering kisses all over it. They were both laughing now, quiet in the dark. As if the rest of the world had fallen away. The ring fits almost perfectly when they break apart long enough to put it on. “Christ, how did I get so lucky?”

“Luck seems to find you, Rogers, and I’m so glad it does.”

          Hours later, in the morning light, Steve finds the inscription on the inside of the ring, and he smiles.

_I’m with you till the end of the line._

~*~

Steven Rogers @starspangledpunk  5w

          Sometimes the 21st century still baffles me, but at least I get to say that I have the world’s best fiancé.

          [image of two left hands entwined on a table. The one closest to the camera wears a stainless steel band. The other is metal.]

Unarmed @capsbiggestjerk 5w

          Sap

Genius, Billionaire, Philanthropist @iamironman 5w

          Congrats, Capsicle. You two give me cavities.

Redacted @superspyspider 5w

          If I’m not your Maid of Honor, you will regret me kidnapping you, James.

Caw Caw @deafbird69 4w

          Damn. I miss all the good stuff. Congrats losers.

Syd Norton @spacelesbian668 4w

          Oh. My. GOD! Congrats you two!

Peter Parker @petespark 3w

          Icons™

~*~

Buzzfeed: Captain America’s Engagement Announcement  
is the Cutest Thing This Century

 

Tying the Knot: Roger’s and Barnes’s Engagement

 

30 Reasons that Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes  
are the LGBT+ Icons we Deserve

 

The 1940s Weren’t as Hetero as You Thought:  
Barnes and Rogers, Together Since 1943

 

~*~

“Stevie, we’re trending.” Bucky comments, stealing another spoonful of cookie dough from the bowl. Steve hits him on the wrist with the scoop, the left one.

“Good. Now everyone can see how cute my fiancé is.” He replies, leaning back into Bucky’s warmth. _Fiancé._ It was still surreal to be able to call him that, and realize they had a hope of actually being married.

“I’m not cute. I’m a renowned veteran assassin with a metal arm.” He pouts.

“I’ve seen the Bucky Bear on your desk. You can’t lie to me. You’re adorable.”

“Punk.” Bucky cuffs him lightly on the back of the head.

“Jerk.”

~*~

Genius, Billionaire, Philanthropist @iamironman 3w      

          Congrats to my two favorite geriatrics.

          [image of Steve and Bucky standing at the altar of a small church. Both are wearing their dress uniforms. A red-haired woman stands behind Barnes and Sam Wilson stands behind Steve. Bruce Banner is officiating.]

Unarmed @capsbiggestjerk 3w

          You forgot my favorite picture.

          [similar to the previous, except Bucky has Steve in a dramatic dip, and is kissing him]

MJ @jonesy13

Icons™

~*~    

          The year is 2015. Sometimes the 21st century is loud and confusing, but with Steve by his side, Bucky knows they’ll be alright. He would follow that skinny kid from Brooklyn anywhere, including the future.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all. This is my first stucky fic, so please leave comments with your opinions. 
> 
> I was trying to go with a really fragmented style, so if you have any questions, I'd be happy to answer.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at jennsepticeye.tumblr.com
> 
> I'm also on instagram as Jennsepticeye
> 
> And you are very welcome to talk to me on Snapchat under the name clairbuoyancy
> 
> Let me know what you think!


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